


It's Bucket, Not Bouquet!

by belle_de_jour



Category: Keeping Up Appearances
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Dom Richard, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I'm Going to Hell, International Fanworks Day 2021, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Married Sex, My First Fanfic, Old Married Couple, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Read at Own Risk, Smut, light humiliation kink, no one asked for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belle_de_jour/pseuds/belle_de_jour
Summary: After a whole day of ordering Richard around, all Hyacinth wants her husband to do is take control...(aka the one where Hyacinth doesn't not have a humiliation kink)
Relationships: Hyacinth Bucket/Richard Bucket
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post on here, in fact the fist fanfic I've ever written, so, you know... Be nice or whatever lol
> 
> Don't ask me why I wrote this, because I honestly don't know, it started as a half-joke and because apparently I felt the world needed Hyacinth x Richard erotica.
> 
> Note: this is really NSFW (like seriously)

Hyacinth Bucket was a simple woman. Well, no, actually she was quite a complicated woman, but after decades of living with her in not-so-harmonious a union, her husband Richard seemed to have her figured out. She enjoyed visiting stately homes and hosting executive-style candlelight suppers, striving to demonstrate her refinement and affluence. She also enjoyed small, routine tasks such as shining the silverware or tying Richard’s tie in the morning, but above all, Hyacinth revelled in having complete control over every waking moment of her life — except, of course, when it came to certain situations of a lascivious nature. No, she really didn’t like to be in control _then_.

Richard almost scoffed out loud at his thoughts, unaware that his wife’s mind was similarly occupied. He was sitting in the living room after one of her aforementioned candlelight suppers, pretending to read the evening paper but really quietly observing his other half as she cleared the table. She was moving around the kitchen in an almost dance-like fashion, humming an old tune, still in high spirits from the soirée. He didn’t realise she was mostly excited due to a completely unrelated reason.

In fact, such was her preoccupation that she very nearly knocked over one of her Royal Worcester double-glazed Avignon china cups while clearing the plates. Hyacinth’s thoughts lingered elsewhere, namely on how she could get her husband to do exactly what she wanted him to. She had been teasing him all day, testing his patience by ordering him around relentlessly, hoping he would retaliate. She had pressured Richard into going over to Elizabeth’s house to inquire after the new opera Emmet was directing; she even made him change his tie twice before supper, but to no avail. Her husband seemed to have endured each of her caprices with nothing more than an exasperated sigh.

_This just won’t do,_ she thought to herself. _I’ll have to try harder._ And try harder she did, promptly dropping her domestic work and joining her spouse in the living room. She came over to the sofa and pulled the newspaper out of his hand, feigning a look of disapproval.

“Really, Richard, reading the news at this hour! It is far too late for such activities.”

He made no attempt of disguising his baffled expression. “What are you on about, Hyacinth? It isn’t even nine yet!” He tried to take his paper back but she snatched it away.

“Now don’t be silly, Richard! Stop objecting and go and get yourself ready for bed.” She made to turn away.

Now he was well and truly bewildered. Since when did they go to bed with the chickens? He was getting irritated. “Hyacinth, I’m being serious. Give me back my newspaper, I’m not a bit tired!”

But she pretended she didn’t hear him and walked out of the room, newspaper in hand. Before she did, he thought he saw a mischievous twinkle in her eye. His pulse quickened. He swallowed hard and slowly rose to his feet. He was angry, furious even. How dare she order him around like that, disrespect him like that, walk away from him like that! In the back of his mind he knew what she was playing at. Oh, yes, he understood his wife’s intentions perfectly now, her annoyances of the day seemed quite obvious on closer inspection. He loosened his tie and headed for the stairs, following the sound of her footsteps.

Her heart was racing as she made her way up the stairs, still clutching the newspaper in her hand like a child with a stolen toy. She wondered wildly whether he would follow her and a surge of adrenaline rushed through her entire body as she thought of what might happen if he did. When she reached the bedroom, she quietly closed the door behind her, not daring to turn around to see if he was coming after her. The anticipation was driving her mad.

He heard the door close and a wicked smile tugged at the corner of his lips. _So this is how it’s going to be, eh?_ Slowly, slowly, he plodded up the stairs, making sure she was be able to hear each step even through the closed door. When he reached his destination, he stopped, hand hovering over the doorknob. _Not yet_ , he thought, _I won’t give her the satisfaction just yet._ But he was getting impatient himself. After only a few moments, he couldn’t hold out any longer and threw open the door. He nearly laughed out loud at the sight he was met with.

The lady of the house was standing by the window, her back to her husband, nonchalantly arranging the flowers in the vase. He looked around the room and noticed she had already laid out her nightgown on her side of the bed. His newspaper lay folded neatly on his bedside table. He smiled to himself as he took a step forward into the room. She flinched when she heard the sound of the door closing, still not turning around to face him. Her heart was beating out of her chest and her hands were shaking with excitement. She felt the proximity of his body, even though he was standing metres away, felt the heat radiating from her own.

“Hyacinth…” His voice was low and husky, thick with lust and passion.

She felt a rush of desire shoot through her body culminating between her thighs at the sound of her name coming from his lips. Her sharp intake of breath didn’t escape his ears. She stilled her hands and tried to steady her breathing.

“Yes, dear?” Her casual cheery reply was delivered almost convincingly, if not for the slight tremble in her voice as she uttered the words. She didn’t dare face him.

His temperature was rising. He clenched his jaw in an effort not to lunge at the woman standing before him, still facing away.

“Look at me.” His voice was now strangled, almost desperate, yet still fierce with power.

She nervously turned around, glancing in his general direction, then quickly turned away again, this time making her way toward her side of the bed. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, not now, when her look would give every single one of her wanton thoughts away. And then he would know how desperately she craved him, and her little game could go on no longer.

“ _Really_ , Ri- dear,” she said to her bedside lamp. She tried to say his name but her throat wouldn’t form the sound.

His blood boiled, but he forced himself to stay calm. He was growing hard. He took a step forward.

“I know what you’re doing,” came his charged reply, and she couldn’t help but try to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. The tension in the air was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

She turned her body slightly, now almost facing him, but still evading his devouring eyes. She gave it her best effort. “Whatever do you mean, Ri-”

She couldn’t finish her sentence, this time due to external reasons. With a few swift steps he was by her side, pinning her to the wall with his body. She went willingly, backing up against the wall as if to try to escape him. She felt his erection pressing up against her belly. A pool of wetness gathered in her underwear at the feeling and she let out a quiet gasp of surprise. She looked up into his eyes for the first time since this whole seductive dance started and swallowed hard when she saw the look of carnal hunger directed at her. She felt she might faint from the sudden heat that inexplicably filled the room and she realised they were both panting.

He felt her hot breath against his skin and it made his head spin. He wanted to say something, but words escaped his mind as he struggled to stand upright. Even in his lust-fueled haze, he studied the features of her face. He looked deep into her emerald green eyes, overflowing with burning desire. His gaze traveled down her flushed cheeks to her slightly open mouth and stopped at the flaming skin of her neck. He licked his lips.

Only a few moments had passed in complete silence, although to them it felt like an eternity. Hyacinth broke the spell, not having surrendered completely.

“Richard, what are you doing?” Her voice left her throat in a whisper. Suddenly she realised how desperate she must sound. She was powerless against the sheer force of him, the closeness of his body flush against hers. She wished she could savour every inch of him. _What a wild thought!_

“Is this not what you wanted?” He knew the answer, and she knew it, too, but he wanted to hear her say it.

She wasn’t ready to give up the fight. His boldness gave her a new surge of confidence.

“I don’t know what you mean, Richard.”

He leaned closer, placing his forearm against the wall, pressing himself harder against her body, his leg pushing her thighs apart. Her breath caught in her throat and for a second she thought she might collapse to the floor right then and there. She suddenly felt his other hand on her leg and her knees buckled. His fingertips left a fiery trail against the skin of her inner thigh, maddeningly slowly making their way up. She felt his breath against her ear and it made her light-headed. His hand was getting closer and closer, she could hardly stand the anticipation. When he finally made contact with her burning centre, she gasped aloud and arched her back. His mouth was at her ear, whispering.

“Then why are you wet?”

She bit her lip to keep from moaning.

“I-” Her ability to form words seemed lost completely. He didn’t remove his hand. The feeling of her drenched knickers made all the blood in his body rush to his erection. He felt dizzy.

“Hmm?” His humming voice caressed her ear.

Receiving no answer other than his wife’s loud panting, he started to take his hand away.

“N- no,” she whined, her voice a mere whisper.

He raised his eyebrows.

“No? You don’t want me to stop?”

The shake of her head was barely noticeable.

“What do you want, Hyacinth? You have to tell me what you want.” His voice, though still demanding, had a hint of begging.

She forced herself to take a breath and say the words out loud.

“I want you to—touch me…” Her voice trailed off into palpable silence.

“How do you want me to touch you, Hyacinth?” His eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“I want your f- fingers on my-” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“On your what?” He couldn’t believe he was actually asking her to say the word. He wondered if he was pushing her too far, but then—

“On my c- cunt.”

His head lolled forward and he bit her ear. She moaned with pleasure at the sensation, she wanted to devour his mouth with her own, but his body against hers made it impossible to move.

“Say that again,” he demanded—no, pleaded. His mouth had fallen open at the sound of her mouth forming the word, _that_ word, the word that was so obscene, so improper, forbidden.

“My _cunt_ , Richard.” She couldn’t believe she could ever say something so vulgar, yet now she was saying it for the second time that night and waves of desire were washing over her, making her sex ache for his touch.

He brought his hand back up right away and pressed two fingers against her over the fabric of her drenched underwear.

“Oh—” She could hold in her wanton moans no longer and her hand flew to his shoulder for support because he started moving his fingers slowly up and down against the moist fabric.

“Off, take them off,” she managed, flustered beyond reason.

He didn’t have to be told twice. He hooked his fingers under the hem of the garment and slid it down her legs. She shakily stepped out of it. He stood back up in front of her, looking her straight in the eye.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded.

She bit her lip and did as she was told, returning his gaze with equal boldness. His hand was on her again, but this time she could actually feel his fingertips against the silky skin of her—her train of thought caught on the word— _cunt_ and it made her instantly wetter. He luxuriated in exploring her slick wet folds. He thought of another way to bring her sweet torment.

“Do you want it like this?” he asked, swiping his thumb over her clitoris and her eyes fluttered closed, “Or like this?” He circled a finger around her entrance and she let her head fall back against the wall and strangled a moan. He awaited her reply, yearning to hear the thick desire in her voice again.

“I- I don’t know,” Hyacinth breathed, her eyes still closed, barely capable of forming words. How could she answer him when her thoughts were but a haze and she hardly understood what he was asking?

Without warning, he thrust two fingers into her wanting opening and she gasped in a mix of surprise and pleasure. Upon seeing the self-satisfied smirk on his face, she knew what she had to do in order to make the evening more interesting.

So she slapped him stark across the face. Now he was the one drawing in his breath, half stunned and half aroused.

“Richard! What do you think you’re doing? A little decorum please!”

He withdrew his fingers and when she looked at him, there was fire in his eyes.

“Get on your knees.” His voice was ice and it made her shiver all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for the first chapter (a bit of a cliffhanger, I know, but I had to divide it up somehow because this is really just one long sex scene);  
> I would love love love to hear your reviews, advice, ideas for future chapters or really just whatever you feel like putting out there!
> 
> I have further text written, so I'll be able to update soon if all goes according to plan :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I would be able to post earlier, but it's final exam season right now for me and it's been kind of rough :/  
> Also, English isn't my first language—please excuse any errors in grammar or style I may have commited.
> 
> P.S. There's a line from Gone with the Wind in here somewhere (because I just couldn't help myself), so all thanks goes to Margaret Mitchell for that one.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this further and even filthier installment of the smut-fest that is this story!

“What?”

“You heard me. Get on your hands and knees.” She could feel her desire dripping down, coating her thighs at the sound of his stern tone of voice. She finally managed to turn slightly and took a step toward the bed.

“On the floor.” The instruction made her halt mid-step.

“Yes, Richard.” His commanding tone and the ache between her thighs meant she was done defying him. She turned around and made her way to the centre of the room. She lowered herself to her knees, never ceasing to maintain eye contact with her husband as she did so. He took a step forward, standing over her. He softly brushed her lower lip with his index and middle finger and she took the digits into her mouth. He closed his eyes at the sensation of her warm wet tongue caressing his fingers. She could taste herself on him and the notion drove her wild with need.

He pulled his fingers away, impatient to carry on with his plans.

“Turn around.” She did as was directed and then dropped down to her hands. He knelt beside her, out of her field of vision, and she wondered wildly what he was going to do next.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you, Hyacinth,” he began conversationally. Her blood rushed to her cunt and her arms all but gave out. She knew his question was a rhetorical one, even so, she couldn’t help but answer.

“Yes, Richard.” He started tracing a finger along her back, sending shivers down her spine.

“You’ve been very bad, haven’t you?” He continued.

“Yes, Richard.”

“Getting on my nerves all day and ordering me around… Maybe I ought to put you over my knee.” He said it in an almost joking manner, speaking more to himself than to her. Much to his surprise, she replied without missing a beat.

“Yes, Richard.” Electricity shot down his spine. His mouth was suddenly dry and his hand on her back ceased all movement.

“What?” _Surely she didn’t mean—_

“ _Yes_ , Richard.” She couldn’t stop the words tumbling from her lips out into the open and she didn’t want to anymore. She dug her nails into the carpet, the skin of her face and neck was flushed with arousal and anticipation. He was dumbfounded. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on immensely, but he was feeling uncertain.

“Are you sure, Hyacinth? You- You don’t have to—”

“Please, Richard. Spank me.”

_Well, that’s that._ He rose to his feet and went to sit in the armchair next to the window. For a split second, she thought crazily that he might be walking away, until she heard him speak.

“Come here,” he ordered, making the hairs on her neck stand up.

She crawled to him slowly on her hands and knees, her eyes, never leaving his, wild and full of hunger. She was now positioned so that her head was between his knees. Her tongue darted out of her mouth and swiped over her lower lip with a kind of feline finesse. He thought he might explode that instant. He took hold of her chin with his hand, leaned forward and placed an urgent kiss on her lips. He started to back away but she pressed her mouth harder to his. She parted her lips slightly and he gently ran his tongue over the lower one. She opened her mouth further and their tongues met, conveying their carnal passion for one another. They broke apart panting.

She then crawled onto his lap, bending over his thighs and arched her back, drawing attention to her rounded derrière. He ran his hand up her calf and thigh and the sensation on her delicate skin made her squirm in his lap.

“Stay still.” His tone was calm but firm. She became more and more excited with each of his commands.

“Yes, Richard.”

He reached the hem of her dress and slid his hand under it, making the fabric gather up around her waist. Her bottom was now revealed to him and she got goosebumps as she felt his fingertips brush against her tender skin. He placed his other hand firmly on her upper back.

“Have you been naughty, Hyacinth?” He began.

She could hardly contain a moan of arousal and forced herself to be as still as possible.

“Yes, Richard.”

“And you think you deserve to be punished?”

“Yes, Richard.”

_Slap._

She yelled out loud, unable to hold back any longer, her heartbeat thumping in her ears and her fingers clutching the fabric of his trousers for support. She was drowning in the smell of his cologne mixed with that of sweat and her own arousal and she never wanted it to end.

“Are you alright?” He was in agony. It was all so terribly arousing but he was afraid of hurting her.

“Harder,” she required and a rush of relief and excitement washed over him.

_Slap_.

She clenched her thighs together, desperately craving friction.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He was starting to get the hang of it.

“Y- Yes,” was all she could muster.

_Slap_.

“Oh, Richard, _yes!_ ” She was dizzy from the sharp pain and blinding pleasure, but she wanted more. He did, too, and he was yearning for another taste of her filthy mouth.

“What are you, Hyacinth? Tell me what you are,” he uttered mid-smack, slightly on-edge, anxiously awaiting her response. She drew in a sharp breath and smiled at the carpet.

“I’m a slut.” She could feel his erection twitch at her side as the word left her lips.

_Slap_.

Just as she became aware of the throbbing ache in her buttocks, she felt the touch of his finger on her engorged clitoris and it made her shudder with pleasure. He slowly circled around the swollen nub and she bucked her hips with the sheer intensity of sensation. The digit drifted then to her wanting opening and he finally slid it in, so slowly it drove her to delirium. He curved his finger slightly inside as his thumb found her clitoris and—

“Oh, _God_ , Richard!” Her exclamations turned into drawn-out moans of ecstasy as he continued to massage that hidden spot just inside and added a second finger. He felt equal amounts of pride and desire rising within him as he brought her pleasure in such a wantonly intimate way.

Oh, but now his fingers were moving in and out and he was _everywhere_ , his thumb on her clitoris and his hand on her back, his hard arousal against her and the scent of his body was occupying every fibre of her being. Her pleasure was rising and it kept feeling better and better and he sped up his movements and, oh God, if he doesn’t stop this instance she’s going to faint— If he would only stop—if he would never stop.

The muscles of her entire body tensed as she was being driven seemingly into oblivion, her eyes squeezed shut and she managed to cry out:

“Richard, I’m going to—”

But he didn’t seem to hear her, because his ministrations never ceased and then she couldn’t even make a sound anymore. Her throat constricted, the muscles of her cunt clenched around his fingers and her mind went blank as she was overcome with waves of pleasure rippling through her entire body.

He stayed inside her, prolonging the shattering sensation as aftershocks of her orgasm washed over her and then he gradually slowed down his movements. By the time she came to be aware of her surroundings again, she was lying limp in his lap, panting, her skin glistening with sweat.

He withdrew his fingers and she gasped at the feeling. He turned her around in his arms carefully, his hand at the back of her head. He was still looking at her with that intense hunger in his eyes and she became all flustered again. She held his gaze despite feeling somewhat shy after what they’d just done, her eyes demonstrating her intense passion. Before she could say anything, he was leaning down and his mouth was plundering hers in a demanding kiss. She had to put her arms around his neck for support. His arousal was growing more painful by the minute and sensing his unease she suddenly felt compelled to bring him such pleasure as he did her.

Her hand drifted from the back of his neck to his cheek and she broke the kiss to take a breath. She cupped his face with her hand and looked him in the eyes. She felt the need to express her sentiments, bud didn’t quite know how.

“Richard, I-”

He seemed to understand.

“That’s quite alright, darling,” he smiled.

But then his smile faded because she was shifting in his lap and suddenly pushing him against the back of the armchair. Her eyes were dark and full of unspoken emotion. She lifted her hand to his face and ran her finger lightly over his bottom lip. She kissed him briefly but intensely before trailing kisses down his jawline and neck. It seemed easier to show rather than tell him of her gratitude and unabating lust. Her hand was now caressing his stomach and moving up his chest, causing sparks of electricity on his skin in the wake of her touch. Her mouth was fire at his pulse point and her fingers started to tug at his tie and fuss with the top buttons of his shirt. He was breathing heavily by the time she started planting wet kisses down his collarbone and he could contain himself no longer.

He grabbed her wrists and let her hands fall down to her sides and then he was standing up with her in his arms. She was clutching at the fabric of his shirt at the back of his neck and her mouth was on his again as he carried her to the bed.

He stopped when he reached her side of the mattress, releasing his wife from his arms. She had to hold on to his shoulder for balance when her feet touched the floor, but then his hands were on her body again, turning her around to face the wall. He closed the gap between them by pressing his lips softly to the nape of her neck. His fingers found the zip of her floral dress, for she was still fully clothed, save her underwear that was now lying forgotten somewhere in a corner of the room. He unfastened the dress, painstakingly slowly revealing the milky skin of her back and brushing his lips against it here and there. When he reached the small of her back, he brought his hands back up to her shoulders and slipped the piece of clothing off her body.

When she didn’t feel his touch on her again, she turned around to face him and she couldn’t have known how absolutely delectable she looked standing there, in the dim light of the bedside lamp, in nothing but a bra and her pearl necklace. But she did know her attire was awfully scant and though she didn’t mind feeling exposed in his presence, it took some courage to finally lift her eyes to his. Unsurprisingly, they were met with a look of desire, as well as one of admiration.

His gaze flicked downward.

“Would you mind taking that off?” came his tender plea and she swallowed hard as she reached behind her back and unclasped the hooks of her bra, finally relaxing her shoulders and letting the garment slip from her body. Now there was truly nothing left to bare and she felt free, trembling with vigour under his gaze. He stepped closer and put his arms around her, his fingers taking hold of the clasp of her necklace.

“May I?” he asked, and she nodded her head.

He leaned forward to set the pearls down on the bedside table behind her, the fabric of his shirt brushing against the sensitive skin of her nipples as he did so. She rid him of his tie in one swift motion. He helped her with the buttons of his shirt and then she peeled it off him, dragging her hands along his strong arms. He disposed of his trousers as quickly as he possibly could and then her hands were slipping under his vest and up his back, drawing his body towards her own. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him. Her touch was now wandering lower and lower and just before it reached the hem of his underpants he stopped her.

“Not yet,” he whispered in her ear, and before she knew it, she found herself lying horizontally across the bed with her legs dangling from the edge.

“Richard, wha-” her husband was, for some unknown reason, dragging her by the knees to the very edge of the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows to see what in God’s name this man was planning to do, but she nearly collapsed right back down at the sight of Richard kneeling before her by the side of the bed, trailing his hands along her skin and spreading her thighs with that ravenous look in his eyes.

_What is he doing?—Come on, Hyacinth, you know what he’s doing._

She was scandalised by her own inner voice, and then she _did_ collapse right back down, because she suddenly felt the wet touch of his lips on the skin of her thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again—I will die of appreciation for any comments or kudos you leave on this work; posting the next chapter as soon as I can!


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